


Waking Up

by ladydragon76



Series: Waking Up [1]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 14:45:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2551421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Megatron fully expected the Allspark to destroy him when the human pushed the cube into his chest, but that’s not what happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waking Up

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** Post 2007 Movie  
>  **Series:** Waking Up  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters:** Megatron/Optimus Prime  
>  **Warnings:** AU (Megatron lives), Sticky  
>  **Notes:** So I hit 200 followers on Tumblr (mind=blown), and in thanks I decided to hold a little giveaway. [Nordilinga](http://nordilinga.tumblr.com/) won first prize, so here’s her fic! Thank you to all that follow me and played. This fic takes place just after the end of the first Transformers movie, and is incredibly AU, of course.

He remembered it all, and that, more than anything else, made Megatron wish that the Allspark had destroyed him. Waking up was not at all what he had expected when the little vermin shoved the cube into his chest. Waking up with a clear mind and damning perspective on all he had done… Well, that was a punishment from Primus Himself.

“I know you’re conscious.” Optimus’ voice, though soft, startled Megatron into opening his optics. “The monitors,” he explained needlessly and pointed.

“Why am I conscious?” Megatron’s voice rasped more than usual, but his vision was perfect as he stared at Optimus’ face. “I tried to kill you.” Hundreds, _thousands_ of times. Why? No, he knew why, but how? How had that happened?

“Because I can sense a change in you and asked Ratchet to remove you from the forced stasis.”

“Can you?” Megatron couldn’t help the slight smile, and shook his helm in bittersweet memory. Always the mystic, and still Optimus managed to be blunt. It was as good an answer as any though, and Megatron shifted slightly, testing the bonds holding him to the repair table out of old habit. “So why am I alive for you to sense this change?”

Optimus lifted a shoulder, and Megatron recognized just how tired he had to be if he was using such lazy gestures, even in private. No, they would not be alone, someone was monitoring this. Right?

“I would not snuff a mech’s spark when he is no longer a threat.”

“How am I not a threat?”

Blue optics narrowed into a glare above that damned battlemask. “Don’t taunt me.”

“I’m honestly not,” Megatron said, pleased to finally see a reaction and hear some heat in Optimus’ voice. “I know what I’ve done. To our planet. To our people.” He held Optimus’ gaze. “To us.”

Optimus visibly flinched, optics shifting to look down at the floor beside the chair he sat in.

“The only thing I don’t regret is killing those humans. They earned their deaths.”

“They’re young. They don’t-”

“If you say they didn’t know they were dealing with a living being I really will box your audials.” Megatron’s voice rang off the walls, true anger twisting inside him, though it didn’t carry the directionless, mindless fury of _before_. “They knew. They tortured and experimented.”

“Nothing our own people haven’t done to other species in the past.”

“And those _scientists_ ,” Megatron sneered the word, “deserved death too.” He cycled his vents, and turned his helm to stare at the ceiling. “I don’t regret their deaths, and there are more that deserve to die. However,” he said, looking back over at Optimus before he could speak, “I won’t be the one handing out that punishment. There are more important things to discuss.”

“Such as?”

Megatron braced himself, then asked, “Jazz to start with.” There were others, countless sparks, he was responsible for crushing out of existence, but Jazz was the only Cybertronian since the Allspark was launched and Megatron chased after it.

Optimus was silent for a moment, then said, “Jazz will live, though his recovery is going to take some time.”

“I’m glad.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.” Megatron shifted again, uncomfortable with being chained down, though he understood the need. He wouldn’t even ask to be released. “On to the other important things.” He paused, pinning Optimus with a serious look. “The Fallen is in this solar system.”

Optimus’ optics flickered, then widened in disbelief.

“Tales to frighten hatchlings before recharge, I know.” Megatron sighed and shook his helm. “I do not expect you or anyone else to believe me, but he corrupted me. I don’t know how, but I can recall the first meetings.” All the meetings actually, and they were horrific enough to make the mighty Megatron shudder in revulsion and fear. “Spark deep, brother. He took my spark and twisted my thoughts. It made so much sense before. Then, when it was happening. Now, I don’t see how I could have shifted so far away from our goals.”

“Stop,” Optimus said, vocalizer crackling with static. “The Fallen. _The_ Fallen?” Anger visibly rose, contorted what little of Optimus’ face Megatron could see and paled his optics. “That is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever told me. The ancients are gone. Long gone.”

“He’s not. The second largest moon of Saturn has a ship orbiting it. Soundwave was able to make contact with me when I was free of the humans’ ice.”

Optimus launched to his feet and paced. “No.”

“Optimus-”

It was the Prime that whirled on him. The Prime whose hands slammed to the table on either side of Megatron’s helm and growled in his face.

“Punish me in any way you wish,” Megatron said, tone even, a strange sense of peace filling his spark. “I deserve it. I confess to all my crimes. Kill me. Imprison me. Enslave me. But do not ignore these words. The Fallen lives. He is close. He has some intent on this planet and you, my beloved brother, are in his way.”

~ | ~

In the days that followed Optimus storming from Megatron’s cell, no one except the medic came in. Ratchet installed an energon drip directly into Megatron’s lines, said not a word, and only returned to replace the empty fuel pouches twice a day. Megatron didn’t try to speak to him, though he did watch with alert, calm optics. He even began to trust his newly returned sanity a little.

Just a little.

Optimus returned on the fourth day. “There is a ship where you said it would be.”

“I know.”

Optimus grumbled wordlessly and threw himself into the chair, battlemask retracting so he could scrub at his face. “Are you sticking to the story about the Fallen?”

Megatron chuckled at the antics. How Optimus had changed. “Yes.”

“I can’t see how you can laugh.”

“I’m laughing at you,” Megatron said, still smiling and feeling an old swell of affection in his spark. “Since when are you so undignified? Shrugging and dropping into chairs and rubbing your face like a youngling just waking up.”

The look leveled at Megatron stole the smile and humor away. “Since I was forced into a war with the one mech I loved more than any other.” Optimus stood and paced again. “The Fallen. Frag me, what do we do now?”

Cursing was added to the list, but Megatron shook away the urge to say anything. “We could destroy him.”

Optimus snorted. “We?” But his optics dimmed, and without the battlemask the longing showed clearly on his face.

“I would like to try to make amends.”

A strange, soft sound escaped Optimus as he dropped once again into the chair. “How could I ever trust you? How could I ask that of the mechs that trust me?”

Megatron shook his helm, and then stared up at the dull, dark grey of the ceiling. “You can’t. I am only just coming to trust that this clarity is real myself, but I would help in whatever capacity you need me too. I could draw more Decepticons here. We could see if the madness was spread beyond me, or if they’re truly beyond redemption. We could gather a force and then go destroy him so that what remains of our people can be free.”

“You’re saying everything I’ve longed to hear for vorns,” Optimus whispered. “I want to believe you so badly that I think I shouldn’t.”

“Then tell the others. Let them all come question me. Let them doubt and pry and rail at me.” Megatron turned his hand over, reaching what little he could with it and his field. “Optimus.”

“Primus, please don’t.”

Megatron withdrew, spark aching for Optimus more than himself. Primus save them both, he really was sane again.

~ | ~

“You understand what this means?” Optimus asked again, moving slowly as he removed the bolts from the restraints chaining Megatron to the table. “They’re choosing to believe you. They’re risking _everything_ in this one gesture of trust.”

“I understand.” Megatron ached to move, but remained still and compliant as the last of the chains was removed.

Blue optics sought red, and Megatron’s spark throbbed at the naked agony on Optimus’ face. “I understand,” he repeated, and then slowly, telegraphing every minute movement, sat up. Gears creaked and cables ached. Megatron’s whole sensornet lit with a low level pain.

“You have Jazz to thank for this,” Optimus said, weight shifting from foot to foot.

Megatron held out a hand. “I’ll thank them all in turn. You first.”

Optimus hesitated, but then stepped close enough to take Megatron’s hands. They both gasped at the jolt that passed between them.

“Thank you,” Megatron murmured with a smile and light tug.

“You can’t charm me right now. I feel too-” Optimus shook his helm, but when Megatron turned to sit on the side of the medical table, he stepped between the spread knees and into the embrace.

“I know.” Megatron let the gratitude radiate through his field. “I mean it though. Thank you.”

“You’re not forgiven. It’s not forgotten.” Optimus’ voice crackled as he said the words and tucked his face into Megatron’s neck. He slumped in against Megatron with another of those soft, mournful sounds he made far too often anymore. “I shouldn’t still feel this way about you.”

“Why not? I still love you,” Megatron replied.

“Don’t.”

“I can’t help it.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Optimus said, straightening. “Don’t say it. It nearly destroyed me to lose you the first time. A part of me died in every battle. You can’t just say it like it’ll fix everything.”

“It doesn’t fix anything,” Megatron said. “Nothing I say or do will fix the past, and _that_ is destroying me.” He paused, hands stroking up then back down Optimus’ arms to clasp his hands again. “Which I deserve.”

“Stop that too.”

“Admitting my guilt? Why?”

“It feels like manipulation.”

Megatron blinked at that. “I don’t intend it to be.”

Optimus sighed, pulling one hand free to rub his face again. His exhaustion and sparkache was just so incredibly obvious, and before Megatron even realized what he was doing, he had his free hand behind Optimus’ neck and was pulling him in close like he would have done so long ago.

Optimus’ hand dropped away, their optics locked, and Megatron stopped pulling.

He had lost this. Thrown it away for madness and conquest.

“I’m so incredibly glitched,” Optimus whispered.

Then Megatron’s mouth was taken in a hard kiss that tasted of desperation and longing. He opened to it, wound his arms around Optimus, and let his weight fall back onto the table. Optimus followed, and with some writhing -that was decidedly pleasant- from both of them, they settled together. Megatron purred as Optimus’ weight pressed him down, back arching and thighs spreading in blatant invitation.

“I want your spark,” Optimus said between nipping kisses. “I want to see for myself.”

Megatron unlocked his chest plating without protest, more than willing.

“We shouldn’t.”

“We should.” Yes, Megatron thought, this was absolutely something they should do. Optimus would feel the sincerity and regret, the determination to set right as much as he could before having to face justice himself. And justice would have to come. There was no way to rebuild their society with the mech that destroyed it wandering about free, but they could come to that later. He retracted his plating and opened his interface panel as well. “We should. Put away your guilt, Optimus, this is not about the power you think you hold over me as your prisoner.”

“You’re glitched too.”

Megatron smirked. “Which is why I fell for you in the first place. Now come on.” He bucked his hips up. “Before someone comes in here and breaks up our reunion.”

Optimus shut his optics for a moment, but then his chest plates clicked and separated. Then the laser core armor divided. Megatron watched, optics caught by the shine of bright spark light that poured between them. His own casing opened, then the crystal, exposing him right down to his bare spark. He was so focused on the warm pulse and glow, he jumped at the light touch to his array.

“No?”

“Yes,” Megatron said, hips lifting and knees drawing up to grant more access. “More.”

“I’m out of practice.”

One fingertip slowly circled the rim of Megatron’s valve, sending a tingling heat skirling through his body. He snorted in disbelief. “I’m sure we’ll do fine.” And just leave it to Optimus frelling Prime to make apologies for lackluster interfacing before it even happens, particularly when it had never been anything except processor-blowing between them.

Megatron pulled Optimus back down into another kiss, shivering at the moan it earned him. One finger pressed in, making his valve clench. He resisted pulsing out with his spark despite the tight band of need squeezing it, wanting all of Optimus before they lost themselves in the merging of their sparks. The soft click of a panel unlocking and retracting pulled a moan from Megatron, memories crowding in and making him gasp in desire.

“Do you remember-”

“Yes,” Megatron interrupted.

“The last time?”

The last time Megatron had pushed Optimus against the wall of their ludicrously extravagant apartments. They’d been angry with one another, fighting over policies and the future.

“I remember.” Megatron had already been twisted then.

“I don’t want this to be a new last time,” Optimus whispered. “I want you back.” He pushed another finger in beside the other, wrist turning to sweep his touch over the nodes embedded in Megatron’s valve lining.

A fire ignited in Megatron’s lines, and he wrapped his arms better around Optimus, and reached for his spark. Slag waiting. “I want to be back. I want this to be permanent.” He groaned, shivering even as Optimus began to tremble above him. Their sparks fluttered together, then meshed with a bright flare of pleasure. “I want-”

Optimus kissed him again, hand moving and the blunt end of his spike replacing the fingers in his valve. The movement was almost clumsy in Optimus’ hunger and need, and Megatron held tighter, gritting his teeth against a louder cry. He arching into the rhythm, body and spark.

 _Megatron,_ Optimus whimpered within the connection.

Bliss coiled deep into Megatron, but he pulled away from it enough to push all the regret and guilt up where Optimus could see it. Then, after only a slight hesitation, the fear that this wouldn’t last, that he would slip back into the madness.

“I won’t let him retake you,” Optimus swore, spark pulsing possessiveness that made Megatron forget the possibility of being heard and throw his helm back to shout.

Not that there was any hiding what they were doing now. Optimus growled, the deep rumble vibrating the table, the walls, and right through Megatron.

“Say it,” Optimus demanded.

“Said… not to.” Megatron gasped, thighs clamped to Optimus’ hips as they rocked and ground together. His spark pounded along, dragging energy from Optimus just to thrust it back in a harder pulse.

_Say it._

Megatron moaned, helm falling back as sensation shimmered and sparked throughout his body. “Optimus…” He trembled under the force of it, held to the edge and feeling Optimus right there with him.

“Please,” Optimus whispered against Megatron’s throat and in his spark.

_I’m sorry._

Optimus’ moan broke over a sob.

Megatron pressed his mouth to a finial and whispered into Optimus’ audial as they tumbled into overload, “Love you.”

Ecstasy still echoed in Megatron’s lines, and Optimus’ panting breaths were hot against his neck. Megatron grinned, spark flaring a little and making both of them gasp.

“Primus,” Optimus said with the slightest of smiles, and lifted himself up enough to allow their chest plating to close.

“You seem more relaxed,” Megatron observed. “Do you think this method of showing the truth would help the others?” He smirked at the flare of possessiveness and glare that got him. “No?”

“No,” Optimus growled, and leaned back down to kiss him, but didn’t linger long before pushing himself free of Megatron and sitting back on his heels to gaze down at him.

Megatron stayed as he was, legs sprawled shamelessly and smile growing wider until Optimus shook his helm and climbed off the berth.

“Get up. I’m not going out there alone to face their shock.”

“I was your Lord High Protector and consort before the war. Surely, this won’t be such a surprise to them.” Megatron sat up, then stood, ignoring the slight dip and twist as his gyros righted themselves after being horizontal so long.

A cloth was tossed at him. “Clean up and let’s go see. Pleasant as that was, now that I know this isn’t all some plot, I feel a desperate need to do something about the Fallen, and quickly, before he knows that he lost his hold on you.”

“We can test our theories on any Decepticons still here on Earth. If the madness has affected them as well, then we can adjust the plan accordingly.” It was oddly soothing to slip into planning and tactics with Optimus. “If not, then an explanation should be enough to tell us whether they’re willing to put aside the war for the real danger.”

“True, but you’re not going anywhere near the Fallen.” Optimus faced Megatron squarely. “I meant it. I can’t lose you like that again. I won’t.”

Megatron stepped close, purring as he nuzzled Optimus’ cheek. “Good. I don’t want to be so lost ever again.”


End file.
